


Light in the Dark

by cognitioncorsair



Series: Light in the Dark [1]
Category: Orbiting Human Circus of the Air (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Multi, spoilers for episode 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9476282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognitioncorsair/pseuds/cognitioncorsair
Summary: It's been two weeks since the circus almost shut down and Julian almost... you know. Things seem to be going fine, and yet John is having nightmares, and maybe things aren't as good as they could be. At least, not yet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been feeling p sad since the season finale so I wrote some self-indulgent bullshit to cheer myself up ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> ((In case it's not obvious, this, and probably everything else I write from now on lmao, takes place in a world where the circus and circus staff exist outside of Julian's head))

It had been two weeks since the show had almost shut down and Julian had nearly died. The Orbiting Human Circus was running smoothly again, with an abundance of new acts and material and a complete absence of janitorial interruptions (two facts which were not unrelated).

And yet, John was still having nightmares multiple times a night, waking up panting, drenched in sweat. The dreams were bad, anyone would admit: filled with visions of his friends, in pain and crying out for his help, which he was unable to give as the walls of his room crumbled around him.

He came into work every day haggard and worn, the bags under his eyes much more pronounced than usual. Everyone expressed their concern, but only to Leticia, who promised to relay the messages to John. He waved her off, of course. He was fine, he said, totally fine.

The call came at 2 am on a Wednesday. Could she please come over, John asked desperately. He needed to know she was alright.

Tish agreed immediately, the relief of him finally asking for help outweighing her inevitable loss of sleep.

He opened the door shirtless, chest heaving like he had just run a mile (which, for him, was quite a lot). Leticia pulled him into a tight hug, almost knocking his glasses off his face.

“Oh John, John, it is all right, I am here,” she soothed, rubbing his back. John buried his face into her shoulder.

“Can- will you come in?” he asked shakily. “There's a- a guest bedroom next to mine.”

“Of course, mon amie,” she murmured, picking up the overnight bag sitting by her feet.

The next morning, John drove her to her house, where she packed a suitcase and returned home with him.

“I could not just leave him like zat, in zat state,” she explained to the stagehands later that day. “Ze recent events, mmm, zey took zeir toll, I zink.”

“Plus,” she added cheekily, “he has a pool.”

John seemed to improve considerably after Leticia moved in. They never officially discussed whether the arrangement was permanent or not, but they may as well have. She’d already had a set of keys, of course, but one day John offered to pay the fee for breaking her lease and that was that.

“Zere is just one zing,” she said one morning at breakfast. They were sitting on the patio, enjoying the warm summer air and the beautiful, incredibly expensive view of the city.

John looked up from contemplating his oatmeal. “Yeah?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“It’s my neighbor, you know, my downstairs neighbor? Ze one I’m always talking about?” She sighed. “I, mm, really like her. I was going to ask her out, perhaps. On a date. Which, I know, I know, I still can. I will just, well, I will miss living so near to her.”

John hummed, thinking it over. “Well,” he offered. “If things go well, I wouldn’t be opposed to her spending some time here.”

Leticia beamed at him, her heart lifting. A week later, she and her former neighbor went on their first date. Two months later, Leticia moved to a slightly bigger room across the hall from John, and the woman came with her.

John was a little sad not to have Tish all to himself anymore (they had both pushed their beds against the wall separating their rooms so they could knock on it if either needed some company) but seeing the look on her face as she gazed at the woman she so clearly loved made it worth it.

It did, however, cause a small ache in his chest when he thought of how long it had been since he’d looked at someone like that. Or at least, since he’d been able to do so openly. But every time he thought about _doing_ something about it, the ache moved down to his stomach, anxiety overwhelming his brain until he was able to calm down, usually with Leticia’s help. He resolved to do… nothing, basically, always telling himself that some opportunity would come, and resigning himself to wait until then.

Things happened anyways, though not yet in the romance area.

One day, John overhead Leticia and Jacque talking in hushed tones about how Jacques’s elderly aunt had gotten sick, and how he wasn’t sure he could afford both her hospital bills and all their other expenses, even with the circus’s usually ample salary.

Leticia caught John’s eye, silently pleading for something. Perhaps she just wanted him to talk to the PBC and get Jacques a pay raise, but he immediately offered the man and his aunt a place to stay for as long as they needed, and as much help with the hospital bills as possible.

Jacques almost started crying as he thanked John, shedding the illusion of toughness he usually tried so hard to cultivate. John waved him off, the ache in his chest which had become a somewhat constant companion abating slightly.

He soon learned he’d gotten slightly more than he’d bargained for; Pierre and François spent so much time with their fellow stagehand, usually without John’s permission (though as much as he teased them, he really didn’t mind), that they might as well have been living there too.

“What exactly _is_ your living situation?” he asked the two men late one night, all six of them (Jacques’s aunt already sleeping) sitting in his living room playing card games and drinking merrily.

Pierre shrugged. “We share the rent,” he said, gesturing to François and himself, “so it ain’t too bad. The apartment just gets a little crowded sometimes, ya know?” He punched John in the arm playfully. “Thanks for lettin’ us hang out here all the time, Mr. Cameron, it’s been real great.”

John stroked his upper lip, forgetting, with so many people around him, that he didn’t in fact have on the fake mustache he always wore in public. (He had expected the stagehands to comment on it the first time they came to his house, but no one ever had.)

“When does your lease expire?” he asked thoughtfully. (It didn’t matter; he paid for it anyways, just like he had with Leticia.)

He had to get a bigger kitchen table, and more chairs, and actually buy food (Leticia absolutely refused to let him continue eating as much takeout as he had been). It didn’t matter. None of it mattered, not when he could stand in the kitchen doorway and watch the people he cared about laughing and joking and _safe_.

The nightmares still came, sometimes, but much less, and he could always get Tish if he really needed to, even if she was busy with her girlfriend.

Except one week. One really, really bad week. Julian hadn’t shown up to do his scheduled feature presentation, and John had freaked out. Publicly, he was angry that he would have to use one of the backup reels. Privately, he was scared out of his mind that something awful had happened.

After the show, he’d rushed down to the janitor’s closet and flung open the door to find Julian curled up on his cot, sleeping off a bad cold. He’d slid down the wall to sit on the floor, heart pounding, and placed a shaking hand on the janitor’s shoulder.

The next day, John drove him to the doctor, scolding poor Julian for not asking for help the whole way.

Julian was fine, of course, prescribed with simply rest and plenty of fluids. John came incredibly close to offering him a better bed for the night, but the janitor was out of his car and inside the tower before he could work up the nerve.

That night was the beginning of the aforementioned truly awful week. It was like nothing had changed in the last few months; he was back to waking up screaming (and often waking Leticia as well) every night. She held him as he sobbed. It was about Julian, of course, everything was always about Julian.

John tried desperately to solve the problem in the way that didn’t actually include the janitor, and Tish went along with all of it, despite knowing exactly what would make the nightmares stop. They tried playing calming music, lighting scented candles, taking all sorts of supposedly helpful herbs. She eventually suggested getting some sort of prescribed medication, and he grimly showed her the anti-anxiety meds he’d been taking for years, with varied results.

After a week, Leticia had had enough. She left the house immediately after John feel asleep, giving her girlfriend instructions on how to help him if needed, and set out for the Eiffel Tower. The streets of Paris were deserted, so late at night, and the drive was quick and easy.

She marched the whole way up the stairs, not even breathing hard when she finally reached the janitor’s closet.

“Julian,” she whispered, gently shaking him awake. “You must come wiz me, it is urgent.”

“Wha-? Is something wrong?” he asked sleepily. “Is- is it Mr. Cameron? Is he ok?”

She pursed her lips. “He is fine, do not worry, but he needs you.”

Julian blinked a few times, crawling out of the warm covers and standing shakily. Leticia shook her head.

“Mon Dieu, you cannot make it down all zose stair like zis, you will fall and die. Oh, I should have waited for morning. Ah well, we will make do.” She scooped the protesting janitor up into her arms, unfortunately flashing back to the last time she had carried him out of the tower.

At the bottom, she placed the once-again-sleeping man into the passenger’s seat, smoothing his curls back from his face. “Ze fourz brozer I never had,” she murmured, smiling at him.

The drive back was as peaceful as before. She woke Julian again at the house, helping him inside.

She knocked carefully on John’s bedroom door, pushing it open to find him sitting up against the headboard, staring into space. He looked up when she came in, pulling a confused Julian behind her.

“Tish? Is that you?” He squinted across the darkened room. “And- Melody? I told you I was fine, I-” He stopped as they came closer and he made out Julian’s face. Images from his most recent dream, bloody bandages wrapped around the janitor’s head, flickered through his mind. He took a deep breath. “Julian, what- why?”

Leticia nudged him forward. “John, I am sorry, but I am tired of you not facing your problems. I know you are worried about Julian, and talking to him about it is ze only way you going to feel better, alright?”

John closed his eyes, still trying to breath normally. “I suppose it’s too late to argue, isn't it.” He looked up again, then over at Julian. “It’s, well, it’s really very late, do you want to talk tomorrow? I can find a bed for you somewhere, I’m sure. Of course, if you want to return home, Leticia will take you, she really shouldn’t have-”

Julian shook his head. “I, um, I have some things I wanna talk to you about too,” he said, biting his lip. “Now, now is fine.”

Leticia sighed with relief. “Dieu _merci_. I am going to go to sleep now. Call me if you need anyzing, but, uh, try not to need anything, oui?” She backed out of the room as John scooted sideways, making room for Julian to sit next to him, and shut the door firmly behind her.

The next day, neither man showed up to breakfast. Leticia was content to leave them be, but Melody refused to even kiss her good morning until she checked on them. (“To make sure they didn’t murder each other!” “Oh, sure, of course. A house full of gossips, every one of you!”)

She poked her head into the room to find Julian and John curled up against each other, peacefully asleep. John had a small smile on his face, and she smiled too, overjoyed to see him getting the rest he deserved, and with the man he deserved as well.

Leticia reentered the kitchen to a barrage of questions, shaking her head in mock disapproval at all of them.

“What’s the verdict, Tish?” Jacques asked eagerly. “Are we gonna need another bedroom?”

She grinned at him. “Anozer room? No. Anozer key? Absolutely.”

They did end up having to buy a bigger car, since everyone agreed it was ridiculous for them to drive separately to work (despite concerns that they would _look_ ridiculous pulling up to the Eiffel Tower in a minivan). Mail was another problem; the post office didn’t think it was possible to reroute six different sets of mail to one address, until Leticia showed up in person and they realized it was, in fact, possible, and would even be done free of charge.

But besides that? Everything was fine. In less than six months, they each gained more new family members than they thought possible. They were all happier than they had ever been, and all agreed, quite loudly and quite frequently, that things were really, really, good.

**Author's Note:**

> Might write some more stuff in this universe, we'll see!!!
> 
> Come scream with me (or better yet send me cute headcanons and shit) @ rotatinghumancircus.tumblr.com


End file.
